


The First Day of Summer

by Tcharlatan



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Awkwardness, Bad Decisions, Band Fic, Desperation, First Love, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Frottage, M/M, Sexual Tension, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 15:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/586646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tcharlatan/pseuds/Tcharlatan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-control had never been Die's strong suit. He was intelligent, certainly, and kinder folks would call him optimistic or determined, but there was an undeniable sense of recklessness to his long history of flinging himself headfirst and wholeheartedly into all that he did with, at most, a cursory regard for the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Day of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of pure fiction. I do not personally know any of the members of Dir en grey, and do not profit from this work.

With youth, comes restlessness. The hands itch, the blood sings, the entire body _vibrates_ in anticipation of excitement and adventure. With love, comes obsession. The heart blinds the mind to all but the object of its desires, fixating on it until there is room for thoughts of nothing else. Die, under the affliction of both maladies, was slowly but surely losing his mind fighting to contain the tempest of urges their combined forces plagued him with. Self-control had never been his strong suit, after all. He was intelligent, certainly, and kinder folks would call him optimistic or determined, but there was an undeniable sense of recklessness to his long history of flinging himself headfirst and wholeheartedly into all that he did with, at most, a cursory regard for the possible consequences. With some things, like learning guitar and martial arts, or maintaining excellent grades and an immaculate apartment, it was a habit that served him well; making up for any possible lack of natural talent or experience by virtue of sheer effort. With others, it simply led to a cracked skull and a broken heart.

But in spite of that reckless nature, and the restless obsession of young love, Die was just rational enough to recognize that Kaoru was entirely off limits. He was like a brother to Die, and everyone knows you don’t date your siblings. He was Die’s coworker, and everyone knows you don’t date coworkers. And worst of all, Die respected the hell out of Kaoru at heart; not as a teammate or a fellow guitarist on equal standing, but as someone he looked up to and strove constantly to impress and emulate in the hopes of one day _becoming_ an equal. And everyone knows you don’t date your idols. Plus, Kaoru was a man and, though Die didn’t really have any problem with homosexuality as a concept, it wasn’t something he’d ever really considered for himself or fully understood in practice.

And so, though his hands itched and his blood sang and his heart shook his body to pieces with the irrational need to somehow fuse himself to Kaoru like a damned anglerfish, Die had been on his very best, strictly platonic and loosely-professional behavior for months. Through a hundred band practices, he kept his fingers on his strings and picks. Through a hundred bar crawls, he kept his tongue secured and still. Through a hundred friendly embraces and brotherly hugs and the introduction of _fanservice_ – the cruelest concept ever proposed to an indies guitarist hard up for his bandmate – he grinned and bore it like every cell in his body wasn’t screaming to find some way to swallow his best friend whole. He’d been good, because he knew that Kaoru was _Off Limits_.

Which is why, upon stepping into the scrubby little room they used for practices, the first and only coherent thought to bubble up in Die’s mind was, _‘…Un-FUCKING-fair…’_

Really, it shouldn’t have been any sort of surprise that Kaoru would be in the “studio.” He was always there, to the point that Die and the others quietly suspected him of having ditched his old apartment just to make sure they could afford the rent for their quiet little hole in the wall. It wouldn’t be the first, last, or even most drastic display of the fanatic conviction the eldest member had for the eventual success of the group. And if it was true, it certainly made sense that he would take to sleeping in the room he traded his home for.

But for him to be lying so sweetly on that sad, sagging couch, all his hard edges and none of his beauty softened in respite…

Framed by the warm amber light cutting through the dusty studio air from the window, like the gods themselves were holding him out in offering to Die…

In the privacy and quiet vulnerability of the moment, no longer registering as a brother, a coworker, an idol, or even a man; just Kaoru, and all the perfection he represented…

It was just Un. _Fucking_. Fair.

Die wavered where he stood in the shadows just inside the doorway, fully enraptured and all-but choking on a sudden lump in his throat. His young, restless body was pulsing with the need to do something – anything! – and raging against his own inaction, his own silence. His love-stricken, obsessed heart was clamoring with want for Kaoru who – hey! – was conveniently right over there, perfect and beautiful as always. The two joined forces to urge him to do something with Kaoru and, where his mind had once held as a more-or-less stable dam against the flood of those desires, his innate recklessness was hammering massive cracks into that barricade.

 _‘I shouldn’t. He’s my best friend, and we work together. Besides, he’s a man, and he… he’d never want-… he’s too… **good** ; too-…’ _Rationality, faint and growing fainter by the moment.

 _‘Gods, he’s so beautiful… I’ve never seen him asleep before, have I? He looks so…’_ Obsession, twisting in his chest and making him ache.

 _‘Move! Do something! Touch him! Kiss him! Talk to him! Fuck him! Do **something!** ’ _Restlessness, jangling and charged in his veins.

 _‘He’ll never know… I can just touch him a little… just this once, just taste him… as long as I don’t wake him up, there’s no harm in it…’_ Recklessness, whispering insidiously and offering everything he wanted with an unconditional promise of zero consequence.

Die swallowed, his body swaying back and forth with indecision. He wanted to be good, really he did. He wanted to recognize all the reasons to stay his hands, and all the possible consequences for failing to do so, and leave the room before he did something truly stupid. It was just that he wanted to be bad _so much more_. Then – as though the heartlessly munificent gods dangling temptation in his face were tipping their golden sunbeam hands – Kaoru murmured and moved in his sleep, twisting into a more comfortable position. It wasn’t a drastic movement; hardly more than a shift of the hips. But it did manage to hitch his shirt up just a scant couple of inches, baring just a little bit of his waist, and when Die’s eyes snapped to take in that peek of smooth, sun-kissed flesh, all of his good intentions crumbled to dust.

_‘No, there’s no harm in just a little taste… just this once…’_

Rationality lay dead in the shadows behind him as Die stepped into the light of the setting sun. Electricity coursed through him, making his hands flex eagerly at his sides and a flush spread high on his cheeks as he knelt next to the couch. Fingertips fluttered, hesitant for only the space of a single shivery heartbeat before brushing feather-light over every little bit of his friend he could reach, following his worshipful eyes. Magenta hair, fried from cheap bleach and dye and so many heat treatments, but somehow still downy soft. A long nose, arched in the middle to give an endearingly hawkish angle to his features. Thin lips, dry and smooth, parted just so to allow warm breath in and out. One wandering finger dipped into the slack mouth, almost against Die’s will, and the redhead felt a sharp thrill to have part of himself buried in that velvety, wet heat. A curious sound bubbled up past the invading digit, eyebrows furrowing just a shade, and Die took his hands back quickly, heart in his throat.

_‘Careful… have to be careful not to wake him up…’_

Die held his breath, watching for Kaoru to show any further signs of waking until his lungs began to burn. When there was no further movement, he let it out in a long, silent gust of relief and went right back to his folly. The long neck; thin, pale skin wrapped over a strong pulse, elegant to the point of utterly femininity if not for the sharp, knobby protrusion of an Adam’s apple. A small hand; fingers seeming curiously short for how much pure talent they held, chipped and patchy polish decorating blunt nails. Die shivered excitedly as he recognized a callous in exactly the same place as on his own hand and dipped his head to slide the tip of his tongue over it, knowing Kaoru would never be able to feel it. The skin was thick there, roughened to protect against the constant bite and grind of hard strings, but it still tasted of salt and life.

_‘Oh gods, he tastes so good! I need more… just a little more…’_

Heated eyes skipped down to the narrow band of flesh that had originally broken his will. Die had never seen Kaoru without a shirt on as the elder was, by nature, somewhat modest about his body, so that seemingly-innocent display was imbued with an indescribable air of forbidden appeal. Such a stupid thought. But then, most of Die’s thoughts at the moment were decidedly stupid; all of them centered on how fucking delicious that little patch of skin had to be and how there was no way Kaoru was going to wake up, so there was nothing wrong with tracing that trailing bead of sweat with his tongue. It was awfully warm in that little rectangle of dying daylight; just another gift to the transgressing redhead. Panting once – a single sharp rush of air pushed past his lips in anticipation – Die leaned down to gather up the delicacy as gently as his overstimulated body would allow, eyelids fluttering as his eyes rolled back with bliss.

So smooth against his tongue, firm but not overly so, pulsing faintly and rich with the taste and smell of Kaoru’s essence; it was too damn good to give up. One hand moved to tug the elder’s shirt up higher – just a little higher – to give him room to latch his mouth onto a wider patch of pale skin, just barely managing to fight back the urge to bite down and leave his mark on the damnably perfect body. The other hand split off, trailing down his own abdomen to push down into his pants and wrap shaking fingers around a rapidly-hardening erection. Only a few minutes into his weakness, only a few innocent – yes, it was all innocent, no one would be hurt by it! – touches, only a little _tiny_ taste of what he wanted, and his pants were horrifically tight. Kaoru was a drug, he had to be; some kind of insidious contact poison designed to drive Die mad. But it was okay, because he wasn’t biting down, just moving down a little to suckle gently – so very gently, it could hardly be felt – at the fleshy skin just next to a tiny navel, and any movement of the muscles beneath his lips was nothing more than Kaoru shifting in his sleep. And surely there was no harm in dipping just the tip of his tongue into that shallow indentation, tasting just a little bit more?

_‘Just a little more… that’ll be enough, and then I can leave and no one ever has to know…’_

And really, he wanted to do so much more than this, so wasn’t he still technically being good? Restlessness demanded a much more vigorous activity, obsession called for him to consume far more of Kaoru, so him holding back this much should still count as success. It was still okay, because no one would ever know, so no harm would ever come of giving in _just this-_

“Mnnh… Die?”

He almost didn’t hear the sleepy murmur, so soft compared to the rapid pounding of his own heartbeat. Except that the instant the voice came audible, his heart and lungs froze in his chest, as did his hand in his pants and his tongue in his friend’s belly button. All that moved – slowly, dazed with horror – were his eyes, lifting to regard the questioning gaze leveled on him.

_‘Oh… shit…’_

Kaoru was awake.

Kaoru was awake and Die was _masturbating_ with his tongue in his best friend’s – oh gods, brother’s-bandmate’s-coworker’s-idol’s – navel _._

“The fuck’re you doing?”

There was no venom to the question, no scorn in the husky voice or condemnation in bleary chocolate eyes, but Die still floundered around a massive lump in his throat. There was no graceful way out of this, not now, and it was now very possible that his actions were going to cause irreparable harm to one or both of them, or the whole band, or _everything_. A reckless voice in the back of his head whispered that now that the elder was already awake, he could just go all in and do everything he wanted so badly to do. His body wanted Kaoru, his heart wanted Kaoru, and now his mind had no excuse not to bite down on that delicious belly flesh because the cat was already out of the bag and who knew? Maybe things would work out in his favor. Rationality, its mangled remnants having finally caught up to nip at Die’s heels, demanded that he pass the whole thing off as a joke. Or throw together some lie about tripping on something _,_ and… somehow landing mouth-first on Kaoru… at the same time that he’d been readjusting his boxers? Or hell, just press his forehead to the rough hardwood floor and beg with all his might for forgiveness; anything, literally _anything_ other than digging any further into the grave he’d half-dug for himself.

Kaoru tipped his head to one side in inquiry, sleep-mussed magenta hair sliding over his shoulder to bare his long neck, amber-gold sunlight caressing his profile and highlighting every angle, curve, and texture of his face. And it all started up again; Die’s frantic heartbeat, his panting breath, his grasping hands. He had wanted too badly for too long and now, having finally tasted his forbidden fruit, the thought of going back to denying himself caused a sharp, horrible pain to flare up in him; the desperate grips of restlessness and obsession clawing at his innards, screaming their absolute need for this man. So Die did what Die did best. He kicked rationality in the mouth and dove – recklessly; headfirst and wholeheartedly – into the grave with hardly more than a vague hope that it would somehow work out.

“Mph!”

Kaoru’s eyes went wide, and his hands came up automatically to brace against the body crashing onto his own as Die gave in entirely and quickly worked himself into a frenzy. His mouth crushed against the older man’s, tongue jammed between thin lips to lap desperately at the cavern within. Hands trying so hard and barely succeeding to be gentle as they grabbed at everything within reach; in Kaoru’s hair and under his shirt and fussing at the fly of his jeans. Hips grinding furiously into the body beneath him. Every part of him was moving, wildly, with the sole intent of finding some way to be closer to his friend. Kaoru pushed at the redhead’s shoulders, off balance and ineffective at first before fully bearing down enough to separate their mouths so he could gasp for air.

“Easy, Die, eas-”

Looking absolutely stricken, Die lunged forward with a panicked whimper to kiss him again, trying to make the action sweeter this time, trying to stave off the rejection he knew he couldn’t handle. Kaoru was hardening under his grasping, groping hands and he tried to take heart in that fact even as the elder started pushing him away again. Their lips parted again and the next sound Die uttered was closer to a sob, realizing that he should probably stop or at least slow down but completely unable to stop his rocking hips or probing hands. It wasn’t enough; none of it would ever be enough, but Kaoru was pushing him away and he didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay, Die, just let me breathe, alright? It’s okay, you’re okay…”

Mouth free, Kaoru kept only enough pressure on the redhead to keep him in place and took up a steady litany of breathless reassurances, trying to settle him down at least a little. Die, damn near hyperventilating, buried his face in soft pink hair and latched onto Kaoru’s neck where it met his shoulder just to force himself to keep breathing through his nose, needy whimpers and whines escaping with every exhale. Sure that he’d be able to breathe now, the elder released his grip on one bony shoulder and took instead to stroking the blood red locks tucked under his chin. In his fluster, Die had managed to get Kaoru’s pants and boxers open to the point that his erection was jutting out between them and his shirt pushed halfway up his abdomen. The younger man was fumbling now at his own pants and having all manner of difficulty with the buttons, crying his frustrating into Kaoru’s neck until the shorter man reached between them to help.

Die didn’t know what he wanted, exactly. He had never been with a man, and even if he had more than the very most basic idea of what was supposed to happen, or any of the supplies to do so safely, the idea of it was still entirely foreign and unsettling. Beyond that, there was no way he was calm enough to manage anything approaching actual sex. But it felt like every part of him was trying to come into contact with every part of Kaoru; trying to somehow sink his entire body into his friend’s, and with that barely-lucid thought in mind, the second his dick sprang free, he began grinding himself into the older man. One hand tangled into the longer black hair at the back of Kaoru’s neck, the other wrapped around to fist into the bunched-up back of his shirt, and he clutched his obsession to himself with raw desperation as he humped him into the couch.

Kaoru’s head fell back, a hissed groan pushing past straining lips, “Unnnh! _Fuck…_ ”

It was nothing short of graceless. The couch was old, squealing loudly and worn to sagging in the middle, putting them both into awkward arches and providing hardly any cushioning or bounceback. The little patch of sunlight was stiflingly hot in the unvented room, sweat rising rapidly between them and causing their skin to slip and stick irregularly. Their pants and boxers bound their legs together, keeping either of them from arranging themselves into a more effective position, particularly since Die had a longer body to begin with and with his face in Kaoru’s neck, he was smearing precum across the elder’s thighs while Kaoru rubbed against his belly. Plus Die’s movements were entirely animalistic; hard and fast enough to almost be painful on sensitive flesh.

But for all that, the heat and the friction and the pressure were _damn_ good, and Kaoru’s attempts to verbally calm his friend down at all fell to guttural expressions of pleasure only occasionally broken up by panted reassurances. His hips took to rolling up to meet the redhead’s frantic rutting at a slower beat, nails digging deep grooves into Die’s shoulder on one side, bicep on the other. The younger man’s voice was a constant, stuttering barrage of whimpering moans and panting grunts directly under Kaoru’s ear; just as needy and frantic as his movements and bruising grip. It was breathtaking, to be utterly surrounded by such fervor. And Die, having finally gotten what he craved so badly – to touch Kaoru, to taste him, to smell his sweat and hear his moans, his every sense wrapped up in the man – was entirely overwhelmed.

Before long, Die’s lusty noises took a sharper turn and cum was splashing up between them, smearing from Kaoru’s thighs up over his dick and partway onto his belly, but even reaching orgasm only seemed to slow the redhead slightly. The mess provided a warm, slippery-thick lubricant for Kaoru and just a few more cycles of Die’s smooth, firm abdomen rubbing over him found him gasping deeply as his hips made one final, powerful push up against the younger man. Spent, Kaoru sagged back into the couch, eyes closed and panting softly as Die continued trying to push closer into him. Languidly, he brought one hand back up to stroke through sweat-damped crimson hair.

“Shhh…” the smaller man murmured. “Settle down, now… it’s okay… you’re okay… shhh…”

Slowly – so slowly that the friction from constant rubbing began to chafe and hurt a bit – Die’s frantic movements abated under Kaoru’s patient hand, and eventually he stilled entirely. Realizing dazedly that he was probably biting down too hard, he took his mouth off of his friend’s neck, but kept his face hidden there and maintained his grip on hair and shirt. And even now, it wasn’t enough. He still wanted more, still wanted to be closer to Kaoru so badly it hurt. Completely lost in the tempest of young love, not knowing what to do now, he sniffled despondently and his body began to shake. Restlessness bled off, obsession wrapped securely against himself, he was left with only a lingering fear for what his lapse into recklessness might bring him. He knew that if diving into this brought on yet another cracked skull and broken heart, he fully deserved it; even if Kaoru eventually responded to him, Die had essentially assaulted his best friend, hadn’t he?

Then Kaoru’s voice came from overhead to cut through his dismal thoughts, sounding more amused than anything else. “So… are we dating now or something?”

Or maybe this time, headfirst and wholehearted would work out after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Ansekishoku, who wanted something with Die and Kaoru and who leaves tons and tons of awesome comments all the time! <3


End file.
